Wordless Wednesday

Perception

For as long as I can remember I have always thought of myself as unattractive and by no means pretty. I realize as a woman, I’m not alone in being discontent with my body, but I often feel that I am just as unattractive inside as I am on the outside, considering I’m highly introverted, often cantankerous, and easily flustered. Though I have been married for almost seven years, I still find it unbelievable. And the fact that I landed a pretty amazing man makes it seem even more incredible. But as I get older, it seems that self loathing has eased up a bit, despite the fact that my body looks worse now than it did before I even had kids.

When I was in my first year of middle school, I was sitting at my desk with one leg pulled up so my knee was against my chest, and a boy observed out loud that I had huge knees. Since that moment I have hated my legs, and when I look at them I see them as thick and monstrous. Shorts and skirts became my bane, though all I ever wanted was to wear them. Of course, now not only do I have beefy legs but I also have a squishy belly that has harbored three little people in the span of five years.

All that aside, I may not be physically pleasing to look at, but the things that have come from me, from the actions I have done to the three children I have brought into the world, are pretty significant.

Being a mother means letting go of introversion, at least to some degree. And for me, the opinions that end up meaning most are those of my kids. If my kids love me and know without a doubt that I love them, if they go out into the world confident and loving themselves, then I know I have done well, and THAT is what means more than anything else. It DOES help, too, that my children tell me I am beautiful, and that my daughter tells me that I am NOT fat. ツ

I'm a Mom?!!

The first bike! It’s truly a momentous event in a child’s life. And cold, crisp days are hardly a reason to stay indoors, especially when the sky is brilliantly blue and swathed in white, wispy clouds. So in 35-degree weather I followed my son around our apartment building as he learned to ride his first bike.

Watching my son push his little legs round and around, I was astonished by how quickly he was growing up. Only three years ago he was dependent on my legs to get anywhere, and now here he was using his legs to not only get himself around, but also to propel himself forward at speeds his momma felt might be too fast. But there he was: going, going, going. Trotting behind him, listening to his pleasure and satisfaction with his new bicycling skills, I couldn’t help but smile and share in his delight. Then, with the utterance of one simple sentence, my world stumbled for a moment.

“I did it mom!” Ok, so I have heard this sentence many (MANY) times in my five-and-a-half years of motherhood, but, for some reason, this time it was different. Perhaps because I was seeing my son from behind, and when he spoke I wasn’t even looking at his face, or because the cold seeping through my jeans and sweater was making every thought more acute. Whatever the reason, at that moment I was startled at the idea that, yes, I am a mom. I AM A MOM! Well, of course I am a mom. I have three amazing children who can vouch for that fact. But this was different.

I enjoy being with my children, and I cherish the moments I have with them. But having three young children can be a bit chaotic at times, and sometimes our daily routine is done without much deliberation. Going through the motions often leads me to forget about the simple fact that I am a mom, and these three little people following me around are MY children. They came from me, and I am responsible for their wellbeing. They are mine, and I am theirs.

It wasn’t like motherhood came as a surprise for me. My first daughter and son were planned, and being a mother was something I had always wanted to be. Yet the fact that I AM a mother catches me off guard.

Motherhood truly is amazing.